"What is it? Ms. Madison asked, concerned.
"A memory." Sparrowhawk turned, thoughtful. "I know this place, and I'm sure the memory's not pleasant. The memory of evil..." she sighed. "It's so hard, Lynette, I'm like somene who's just woken up from a really long dream, and I think it's affected my memory. But I seem to remember being here years and years ago..."
"If what you said to me back in Wales is true," Ms. Madison sighed, "you've probably been to a lot of p;aces years and years ago."
"Sure," Hawkie ignored the implied accusation. "But a lot fewer where I know something bad happened. And I mean really bad. As in evil."
The way that Hawkie uttered those words caused Ms. Madison to shudder. She knew instinctively that the blonde was not guilty of exaggeration. Hawkie shook her head, big blue eyes full of concern.
"I... I don't know," she confessed, "but I'm going to try and find out - you coming?" She headed off towards the ruins, climbing easily over the gate.
Ms. Madison hurried after her, somewhat hampered by the fact that she wore a skirt. She thought of protesting, but decided that would make her look like a wimp, so followed the strange, intense figure of Sparrowhawk without overt disagreement. She wondered if this was the way that Miss Arcos usually got her own way, then decided that it probably was.
Close to, the ruins were clearly the remains of a great house, largely demolished save for a tower and a portion of the front, capped with turrets and possessed of a number of windows after the style of the fifteenth century. The whole was clearly no earlier than the close of the eighteenth century.
"Any more ideas?" Ms. Madison drew closer to Sparrowhawk.
"Yes." She nodded grimly. "And it's not good."